


In The Ring

by stamets



Category: Cruising (1980), Raging Bull (1980)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-17
Updated: 2020-01-17
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:53:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22285156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stamets/pseuds/stamets
Summary: After he has to arrest him in a street fight, Detective Steve Burns starts taking boxing classes from professional boxer Jake LaMotta.
Relationships: Jake LaMotta/Steve Burns
Comments: 3
Kudos: 91





	In The Ring

**Author's Note:**

> This is absolutely a crack ship yet here we are. More chapters to come, I hope you enjoy it!

He rolled his shoulders backward in an attempt to stay awake. It felt like he’d been sitting in the same position for hours, if not days – sorting through the pile of documents on his desk. His superiors had told him he could count on a promotion if he kept working so hard, but at this rate, he wasn’t even sure if he wanted to stay a cop. He was in his thirties now, old enough to be an experienced officer and young enough to do field work. He wanted a piece of the action while he still could.

A knock on the door ended his mulling. Without waiting for a reply, a man came in with a stash of papers in his hands.

“Officer Steve Burns?”

“That’s me.” He blinked, having to take a moment to get out of his office mindset. His heart sank at the sight of the pile of documents the other man was flicking through right now.

The man’s hand finally rested on a page.

“Ah, yes. Look, sergeant Jefferson and Padilla both called in sick this morning, and our normal substitute got injured in a shootout last week. According to this list, you’re our next option. Your paperwork and doctor’s notes are all here, so you’re good to go.”

“I’m going into the field?” Fuck. Now that it was actually happening he almost started doubting his own abilities.

“Yes, please be ready in twenty minutes, I’ll give you a key to one of the cars. This paperwork can wait.”

“Yes, of course. Thank you, I’ll be there.”

He watched the man leave before getting up and walking to his locker. Despite his excitement, he was very composed. It was one of the things he took pride in as a cop – while many of his colleagues would get all worked up easily, he remained calm even in dangerous situations. He wasn’t a very skilled fighter and wasn’t very tall either, so his success as an authoritative figure relied mostly on his ability to keep or make peace. In many cases, that meant simply going along with a difficult situation until he found a way out. It had worked during his training and during the few assignments he’d had in the field.

Once he arrived at his locker, he took some time to change his uniform. It felt good, giving him a strong feeling, almost like getting into character.

“Right, let’s go.” He murmured.

At the garage where the police cars were parked, he was met with the man from before again. As the man handed him his keys, he said:

“You know what to do. Keep it simple, we don’t want any funny business with a substitute agent.”

Knowing full well today’s performance review could affect his future chances of being a field agent, Steve nodded. “I get it. I’ll keep it clean and easy, don’t worry.”

“Alright. Just drive around the neighbourhood a bit, make sure you don’t miss any spots.”

“Yes, will do. Thank you.”

As he got into the car, he looked around him. It was pretty big, with a bench-like backseat that was long enough to lie down on if you raised your legs. There was a barrier between the front and back seats that could be removed from the driver’s place. As for the rest, it looked like it could go fast.

The first few hours, nothing happened. A car would drive through a red light, or a cyclist would cycle on the wrong side of the road, but there was nothing worth mentioning to the office when he came back. However, he’d noticed a particular block of houses that seemed particularly tense – there was no other way to describe it. A car had parked there and a young man had stepped out, making his way towards one of the flats. He had made two rounds already, and the man was still waiting in front of the house. Finally, Steve decided to park his police car at the end of the street and observe from a distance what was happening.

Nothing did, for at least ten minutes. He was about to give up and leave, when suddenly a window opened on the second floor. A young man with curly black hair and a tank top looked down on the guy in front of the building. It was too far away to hear what he shouted, but it sure didn’t look like it was a very friendly exchange. After several broad gestures, the man in the window left, only to reappear when opening the downstairs front door aggressively. The argument continued. Steve kept his hand on the car keys, ready to start the car when needed.

Immediately as the first blow fell, he turned the key and raced towards the pair. The visitor was knocked out cold with a single blow from the man in the tank top.

“Hey! Get down, yes you. Put your hands on the ground!” He shouted, getting out of the car with his taser ready.

“Fuck you.” The man casually, but still aggravated, walked back into the house.

“Stop! Shit.” Steve sprinted to run after him before the door closed. The other man was already halfway up the stairs, but clearly didn’t care enough to make haste. The cop, out of breath, managed to catch up with him right as he entered his apartment.

“Hold it right there! Against the wall, hands up.”

“You should do something about your condition. You’re breathing like a horse – a cop should be in better shape,” the man grinned as he turned around.

“Just do as I say, we don’t have to escalate this.”

“Sure, sure.” He turned to face the wall with his arms in the air. For a brief second, Steve was distracted by how muscled the man was. The very thought of touching those arms made him weak in the knees. Still, he took a step forward and put his taser back into his belt. Standing close enough to feel the heat coming from the slightly taller man, he carefully searched him for weapons.

“What’s your name?”

“Jake LaMotta.”

“Jake LaMotta, I’m arresting you for assault. You-“

“Yes, I know the drill,” Jake interrupted. He turned around again, and Steve awkwardly dropped his hands from searching as they stood inches apart.

“Look, I don’t wanna get into trouble. It could hurt my career, you see. I’m a professional boxer.”

Ah, that explained it.

“I’m afraid you don’t really have a say in that, mr LaMotta.” Steve’s right hand slowly moved back to his taser. Before he could reach it, his arm was captured by the boxer’s hand.

“I will call for backup. I’m adding assault of a police officer to your charges.” Steve swallowed.

“Or you can just let me go and keep your pretty face the way it is.” Jake raised his eyebrows. He loosened his grip on the policeman’s arm a little bit. “Because if you take me to the police station, I will tell everyone how you left an unconscious man outside without checking on him or calling for help.”

Fuck. To be fair, from the moment he saw the boxer, the unconscious guy hadn’t even existed in his mind anymore. And it was a fair point, an incident like this could absolutely hurt his future career. For some reason, he felt like he could trust this man. Stay calm, just keep going.

He nodded. “Alright.”

“Alright,” Jake confirmed. He smiled and let go of the cop’s arm.

Steve stepped back, finally breaking free from the man’s entrancing aura. 

“Don’t let it happen again. Keep your boxing in the ring.”

“Whatever you say, officer.”

“Okay, good.” He took a tentative step towards the door, as if he didn’t really want to leave. But he did, anyway.

Outside, the visitor had apparently regained consciousness again and had left. There was no sign of him, at least. Steve got back into his car, and with a last glance at the empty open window on the second floor, drove back to the police station.


End file.
